


Say What You Mean

by Turtlebaby



Category: White Collar
Genre: Community: run_the_con, Conversations, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-27
Updated: 2014-03-27
Packaged: 2018-01-17 05:04:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1374811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Turtlebaby/pseuds/Turtlebaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Neal's a little insecure and it's showing. Peter takes it the wrong way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Say What You Mean

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sapphire2309](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphire2309/gifts).



> For sapphire2309's prompt "Searching for you in the offhand remarks" over at run_the_con on lj.

Somewhere between a conversation of alleged heists and El’s cooking, Neal had lost track of his thoughts. “You really need to refine your palate, Peter, I won’t be around forever for Elizabeth to use as a taste tester.” Even as the comment came out, he knew it was wrong. It felt wrong, off his tongue and in his heart. 

And judging by the way Peter flinched, it wasn’t right to him either. “You’re right. But hey, there’s always Satchmo.” His eyes flicked down to his plate and he stirred his food around. 

“Are you saying I have as good of taste as a dog?” Neal tried to sound light but he came off as fake as Peter picking up on the wrong half of his sentence. “I’m hurt.”

“Yeah. Me too.” 

Ah, there it was. “I didn’t mean it like that, Peter.” Neal set his fork beside his plate and took a drink of wine. 

“Then how, exactly, did you intend for me to take it?” Peter blurted the words and his fork clattered to his plate. 

Neal flinched at the sound. “I just meant that someday, not now; not soon, we…”

“Won’t be together.” Peter finished the thought. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why would you leave?” It felt like anger when it blasted through him. “You’re tired of us already?”

“There’s a whole world out there, Peter. And - and eventually you’ll get sick of your dirty little secret.” Neal pushed himself away from the table and stood. “Or I’ll get tired of being one.” 

“You’re not…” Now Peter was on his feet too, hands up.

“I am. Does it even matter, Peter?” Neal knew he was too loud, he was drawing attention. He didn’t care. “No. No, it doesn’t. Because it is what it is and we are who we are and you - do you even hear me?” He stepped back and whirled away. “Never mind.”

“Neal!” Peter’s anger was apparent and his harsh whisper had the power to stop Neal in his tracks. “Don’t just walk away from me. We need to talk about this.” He stalked forward a few steps and reached a hand out.

“Peter.” Neal looked around the restaurant, the eyes darting away from his just fueling his hurt. “You wouldn’t hear me if I yelled from a rooftop. And if you did, you’d misunderstand me anyway.” He shrugged away from hand that hadn’t quite found it’s mark and walked out, letting the door drop heavy behind him.

\--

“Neal?” Peter raised his fist to the door, pounding. “Please open up. I just - I’m sorry, can we just talk?” He waited to the count of five before knocking again. “It’s been two days, Neal. You can’t avoid me forever.” Another count. “I know you’re in there.”

Finally the door swung open. “What?” Neal looked about as haggard as Peter felt.

“I don’t want you to leave.” Peter stepped forward into Neal’s space. “I thought you would, when the anklet came off. But you didn’t. But you haven’t stopped with the sideways comments about a villa in Bali or a view of London or a hundred other places that aren’t Brooklyn. And I don’t want you to go. I don’t want you to, to feel like a consolation prize. To feel like something I’m ashamed of. That was never our intention, you’ve never been something we thought we’d just get rid of.” 

“I never said I was leaving, Peter.” Neal sounded tired, worn out; but his posture was defensive and he stepped back. “But I can’t not plan for that eventuality. Because when you decide… you’ll have Elizabeth. And I’ll be the one that’s alone. And that non existent villa in Bali keeps me sane when I think of not being here.”

Peter came the rest of the way into the room and shut the door behind him quietly. He approached Neal, step for step as the other man backed away until his ass came into contact with the table and he stopped. “Then stay. Dammit, Neal. Tell me you want to stay. I can’t read your mind and I can’t keep looking for the truth of you in offhand comments, because clearly those are misleading lies. But they feel like the truth to me.” He stepped closer yet, planting his foot between Neal’s and pressing close.

Neal pushed forward into Peter, warm, solid. Home. “I want to stay.”

“And you’ll stop telling everyone about the perfect climate in the Canary Islands?” Peter’s breath was hot on Neal’s ear.

“I just want to be here. That’s all I’ve wanted for a long time.” Neal tipped his head as Peter’s lips slid across his throat. 

“Forever?” Peter murmured the question against his skin.

“For as long as you’ll have me.” Neal caught Peter behind the ears and brought his head up to meet his eyes.

“Forever, then.” And he kissed him.

**Author's Note:**

> And as always; Comments, Kudos, and Concrit are always always welcome. Feedback of any kind of always very much appreciated! 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading!


End file.
